Conversations We Have Over Coffee
by yumi michiyo
Summary: Anna isn't the bad sort. Unless it comes to getting herself a designated driver. Rated for some strong language and allusions to adult themes. Oneshot.


**Author's Note:** Written from a prompt off _surprisingly-alive-redshirt_'s Tumblr.

"Mutual drunk friend called both of us to pick them up from a party well this is awkward". The idea of Anna being a horrible drunk, Hans and Elsa dressed like slobs having coffee in roadside diners, and lots of awkwardness was too entertaining to resist.

* * *

"Hello?"

"Elsha!"

The blonde sighed. "Anna, you're drunk."

"Yesh!" she crowed. "Well, I washn't shupposhed to get drunk that quickly. I had a little'a thish, an' shome o' that, and th' next shting I know - "

"Yes, yes, I get the picture." Elsa stood up, pulling a sweater over her shirt, reaching for her car keys. "Where are you? I'll pick you up."

"Thanksh Elsha! Um, where ish thish again?"

She sighed again, long and loud.

* * *

"Hi, Hansh! Look, can I ashk you for a favour?"

"Let me guess," he said flatly, "you're drunk and you need me to pick you up."

"Ding ding ding! Man, you're good at dish."

"I know you too well. Now, pass the phone to the nearest semi-sober person so I can ask them for directions."

* * *

Eventually Elsa received a rough approximation of an address, enough to Google. She pulled up outside the house – some kid's parents were going to get a nasty surprise – and wrinkled her nose. It was the only one with lights on in the street; the building seemed to vibrate with the noise and energy of a hundred drunken kids.

She was glad her partying days (in actual fact they had never existed, it was just a phrase) were long over, and she was happily mired in the tedium of her 9-to-5 job. Or not so happily, judging by the fact that it was past midnight on a Friday night and instead of being out with friends, she had been parked on the couch working her way through the latest season of Downton Abbey and a box of chocolates before Anna had called.

Parking her car in front of the house, she walked up the driveway, pointedly ignoring the drunken kid snoring in the bushes, the couple furiously making out like it was going out of style, and the boy puking up a disgusting mix of alcohol and whatever college kids dared consume these days.

The front door was ajar. Elsa walked right in, dodging partiers neatly, scanning the room for her sister.

A solidly-built young man leered at her, the drink in his hand obviously having given him an enlarged sense of attractiveness. "Hi, beautiful," he said.

"I'm too old for you."

"That's great, I love older women."

"I'm older than you think. I've used dial-up internet," said Elsa without missing a beat.

"Huh?"

"And I used floppy disks before they became save icons." While he gaped at her, she easily pushed past him and vanished in the throng of people.

"Elsa!"

The blonde's features relaxed; she knew that voice. "Punzie? You're here?"

"Duh," she giggled, "it's only the social event of the century." She sounded completely sober; the only giveaway that she had consumed her weight in cheap alcohol was her unfocused stare. Elsa wasn't even sure if Rapunzel was really talking to her, or the potted plant directly behind her. Grateful that she might be able to take her sister home and get back in time to catch up with whatever Lady Violet was planning, Elsa let the girl lean on her. "Er, where's Anna?"

"Anna?"

"Yes, Anna. Your roommate. And I believe, your fellow reveler." The blonde could feel a headache building.

"Oh! That Anna?"

"Do we know other Annas?"

"There's Anya – "

"One letter's difference does not an Anna make."

Rapunzel giggled. "You're funny. Anyway, Anna left. Her ride came."

"She – what?!"

Elsa knew she shrieked those two words. She felt her mouth move, her tongue spitting them out. But the sound in her ears was much deeper and masculine. Before the young woman could question whether sheer incredulity had the power to change her voice, a man pushed his way through the crowd.

"Anna left?" he exclaimed.

Rapunzel blinked blearily at him. "Isn't that what I just said?"

"Yes, but – okay." He gesticulated furiously, practically spitting out the consonants. "Anna left. With someone else. Even though she called _me _and asked me to pick _her _up – "

"Wait, what?" Elsa stared at him. "Did you say Anna called you?"

"Yes, she – huh? You know Anna?"

"Of course I know Anna, she's my sister. I'm Elsa." The blonde folded her arms. "And Anna called _me_ to pick her up."

He stared blankly at her for a moment. "Oh. _Oh_. Okay, so y_ou're_ – look. It's too noisy in here. Let's talk outside." He shot a last grumpy look at Rapunzel as he grabbed Elsa's shoulders, steering her through the crowd, propelling her outside. She squeaked indignantly.

"There wasn't any need to touch me," spat the blonde angrily once they were in the yard, pushing his hands away.

The young man shrugged, but still had the grace to look sheepish. "Sorry, but did you have a better suggestion for getting us out of there?"

"You could just point outside," said Elsa dryly. "I have legs of my own. You know what they're for, don't you?"

"Do you think I'm dumb?"

"I don't need to think; I know that for sure now."

He scowled. "Look. It's – 2am on a Saturday night – and I'd really like to get back home before sunrise like the fucking vampire I am."

"No one's stopping you." Elsa continued to glare at him. "No, wait, we're getting sidetracked. Who are you, and how do you know Anna?"

He shot her a quizzical look. "I'm Hans Westergaard, Anna's friend."

"Oh. Ohhhhhh." The metaphorical lightbulb went on in Elsa's head. "_You're_ Hans Westergaard." She knew the name, of course, but had never actually met the guy. He was Anna's one-day fling, a guy she ran into ("Oh my god, Elsa, he was ordering the same Pecan CaramelCrisp from Garrett Popcorn with extra butter and salt that I was and everyone was looking at us and our eyes met and there was this _understanding_") at the funfair and proceeded to spend the whole day with.

Anna had rambled on for hours about how Hans was perfect. He liked the same foods, loved the same rides, and they even finished each other's sentences (and ridiculously unhealthy carnival snacks). And if her ears weren't mistaken (they very well could be; Anna had called her way past midnight and gushed nonstop), they had sung a duet as they snuck into all sorts of scenic locations in the fairground.

Despite the serendipity, they had never actually dated. ("Too weird," Anna had said. "I mean, a _duet_? That's like some cheesy Disney princess movie. It could only end in tears." Elsa had decided not to mention the plots of typical Disney princess movies.)

"Well. Um, nice to meet you?"

He started, and then shook her proffered hand with a stilted laugh. "Interesting circumstances, but yeah."

"... Wait a minute. If Anna called you and me, but she's already left..."

"... who picked her up?" finished Hans, adopting the same mildly panicked look she wore.

* * *

It was the longest phone call of Elsa's life. She supposed it must have been a sight; herself and Hans wedged in the backseat of her car (it was parked the closest), peering at her phone screen, Anna's face smiling up at them as they waited for the call to connect.

"Put it on speaker," said Hans.

"It _is_ on speaker."

"I don't hear it ringing."

"It is."

"Are you sure?"

"If I needed you to teach me how to make phone calls, Westergaard, I'd ask."

He opened his mouth to make a smart-ass remark, and then the call disconnected. "Damn!"

"I'm calling back, give me a moment…"

The shrill beeping of the busy tone had them both swearing up a storm. "Now what?" said Elsa.

"I don't know!"

They scowled – and then Elsa's phone rang, playing an upbeat version of Barbie Girl. There was a flurry of panicky movement as they both pecked at the screen like starving chickens, aiming for and missing the answer button.

"Hello, Anna?" squeaked Elsa.

"... Elsa, is that you?" came the slightly grumpy voice – which was distinctly male.

"You're not Anna!"

Hans rolled his eyes. "I could have told you that," he muttered. Elsa dug her elbow into his ribs.

"Clearly not," came the male voice on the phone, slightly distorted. "It's Kristoff. Anna's with me. I picked her up from that house party of hers."

Both Hans and Elsa sighed in relief. "Thank goodness."

"She's asleep in her bed right now; I'll ask her to call you in the morning?" There was a pause, and Kristoff added: "Actually, it kinda is morning right now. Okay, I'll get her to call at a more decent hour."

"Thanks, Kristoff. Is she at your place?"

An uncomfortable pause. "Uh, no. I thought it was better she go home, because, y'know. I wasn't sure if you had issues about her being at my place and all… Anyway, it wasn't any trouble at all to drop her off at her flat."

"Oh. Thanks. Sorry for disturbing you."

"Nah, s'alright."

"Um, before you go... " Elsa cleared her throat. "How did you know to pick Anna up?"

"Huh? She called and asked me to pick her up. Why do you ask?"

There was a dull smacking noise as Hans and Elsa simultaneously facepalmed.

* * *

Elsa pressed the terminate button a little more viciously than was necessary for a smartphone. Hans leaned back in his seat. "Careful, you'll crack that screen."

"I don't care."

He shrugged, and changed the subject smoothly. "So, that happened."

"Yes."

In the uncomfortable silence that followed, Hans coughed a little. "Uh, Elsa. Since we're out and all, um… I'm actually a little hungry. Do you want to go for a drink or something?"

She blinked at him.

"… Are you asking me out?"

"Were you not listening? We're already out."

Elsa squinted at him. He was wearing a rumpled baseball tee, the sleeves pushed up, and a pair of jeans that should have been cremated a long time ago. She knew she wasn't much better in her oversized university hoodie and sweatpants. "We look a fright – no offence."

"None taken. I have to be fully aware of my appearance so I won't scream when I look at a mirror," he said dryly.

She snorted, and Hans smirked.

"So what say we go have a midnight snack and grouse about drunk mutual friends/siblings forgetting how many rides she's called?"

Elsa thought of her DVD, and the half-eaten chocolates. It was a tough decision. "… Sure."

* * *

When the waitress delivered two steaming mugs of coffee, Elsa took hers in both hands and savoured the aroma. It wasn't a gourmet blend, to be sure, but there was nothing like cheap diner coffee.

"Huh."

"What?" She looked up from her mug.

Hans pointed his fork at her newly-arrived plate. "I never would have pegged you for a bacon girl."

"Are you kidding me? The only girls who don't like bacon are dead." She pulled her plate closer, safely out of range of his fork. He pouted.

"How politically incorrect. The vegetarians of the world are polishing their pitchforks as we speak."

Elsa shrugged. "Since we're on the topic, I am also a chocoholic."

"Doesn't count. Girls need chocolate to survive, otherwise their metabolic systems shut down."

"… Did Anna tell you that?"

"How'd you guess?"

"She tells that to every guy she knows. It's like a litmus test of sorts for sorting the interesting ones from the… not-so-interesting ones."

"Ah. Sounds like typical Anna."

"Out of curiosity, what did you tell her?"

He put down his fork. "I told her that I totally believe her, because I'm a time traveler from the 70's. Proof: these groovy sideburns. Far out."

Elsa choked on her coffee, and he grinned triumphantly. "I win."

"We weren't even competing!"

"Yes, we were. For the bacon. What else?" Hans reached over and speared a rasher, stuffing it into his mouth. Elsa threw her teaspoon at him.

* * *

"This was actually fun."

Elsa had to agree. It wasn't like any of her other dates – because she was having a meal with a man, and that had to count as a date – but it was fun.

It was a pity she wouldn't be seeing him again.

"It was," she said. "So… I'll see you around?" It was a lie, but it was one of those social phrases Elsa used. It sounded a lot nicer than "We had fun, but this was something that just happened and it would be weird to ask for your number so goodbye forever".

Hans smiled. "Sure. See you around, Elsa."

* * *

Elsa's phone rang, and she snatched it up as though it had wronged her. "Anna."

"Mornin'."

"It's 2.30pm."

"Oh."

"Care to explain what happened last night?"

Anna groaned. "No. I just woke up, and my head hurts somethin' awful, and my mouth tastes like…" She smacked her lips. "Roadkill."

"… I don't want to know how you know that."

"It was a pretty wild party, I'll admit, but not as exciting as others I could mention..."

"Moving on," said Elsa hastily, "while I'm glad you didn't attempt to get home on your own, you could at least remember who you asked for a ride."

"… I did something bad, didn't I? Was it the traffic cones?"

"Anna."

"I swear I didn't know about the pot brownies!"

"Anna."

"We only spiked Eugene's drink for laughs!"

"ANNA!"

"What?!"

"We're getting off topic, and frankly I don't want to know about your, uh, misdemeanours."

Anna giggled. "You sound like a probation officer."

"It's called being responsible. You might want to try it sometime."

"Only if I can smoke it."

"I really hope you're joking, Anna. I – getting distracted again." Elsa let her head slump forward, her forehead smacking her palm audibly. "Last night, you called me, Hans, and Kristoff, and then left with Kristoff."

"… Oh."

"Yes."

"I'm sorryyyyyyy," bleated Anna. "I'll make it up to you both, I promise! Oh god, I feel so mortified now. I'll call Hans right now to apologise."

"Good to hear."

"Are you at home? Don't move off that couch; I'll be right over with chocolate, just as soon as I call Hans."

"Now you're talking."

* * *

A week later, Elsa was out with friends when her phone rang. She glanced over at the screen and groaned.

"El-shaaaaaaaaaaaaa – "

"No, no. Stop right there. Am I the first person you're calling?"

"Yesh."

"The only?"

"Yesh."

"You sure?"

"Absholutely."

* * *

Elsa pulled up outside, wrinkling her nose at the frat house. It was 3am and the party was finally beginning to wind down, judging from the number of unmoving bodies strewn over the stairs and lawn.

Hans chuckled. "We have _got_ to stop meeting like this."

She whirled around. "Hans?"

"The one and only." He was dressed down in his discoloured T-shirt and sweatpants; with the snapback jammed over his tousled hair, he could have passed for one of the fratboys.

Elsa pulled up and stepped out of the car. Hans arched an eyebrow.

"Someone's all dressed up."

She blushed. "I was out with some colleagues and only just got back home." She was already regretting wearing the new blue dress; it rode up, showing way too much skin than she was comfortable displaying around raging male hormones.

He nodded, but didn't question her further. "Anyway," he said, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but…"

"… Don't tell me, I don't want to know," she groaned.

"Kristoff picked her up already."

"Ugh."

"… So. Coffee?"

"Only if you're buying."

* * *

"So, what do you do when you're not out ferrying errant younger sisters home?"

Elsa laughed, emptying another packet of sugar into her coffee. "I'm an urban planner. And you? Vampire?"

"Close enough. I work for the District Attorney."

"I won't comment on the capabilities of the legal system." She took a bite of her pancakes. "Hey, these are pretty good."

"They are, aren't they? I love making discoveries like this," he said as he attacked his eggs.

"Anna said you have a big family."

He snorted. "Big is an understatement. I have twelve older brothers."

"Twelve? Wow."

"Yeah." He poked moodily at his food, and Elsa decided to change the subject. "Apart from Netflix, what do you do when you're not patronizing roadside diners?"

That brought the smile back to his face.

* * *

"Wait, what?"

"Don't act cute, that won't save you this time. You called Hans, myself, and Kristoff – _again _– and went home with the first person to arrive, which would be Kristoff. _Again_."

"Oh gosh, I'm sorryyyyy! I'll make it up to you guys, I swear."

"I've heard that before."

"Um, chocolate?"

"You'd have to buy out the whole store before I go about forgiving you this time, Anna."

* * *

This time, he didn't even bother parking the car when he saw Elsa standing in the driveway. Hans wound down his window. "Again?"

"Not exactly." She nodded at her car. "She's asleep in my car. Apparently her phone battery went flat before she could call Kristoff – it's nice to know blood still counts for something."

He chuckled.

"But apparently she called you too. Why didn't you just ignore her?"

"Um, well," said Hans, not meeting her eyes. "You didn't drive her home straight away? Why'd you hang around?"

"Uh." It was Elsa's turn to blush and look away. "Because I guessed you'd be coming and I, uh, don't have your number, so…"

"You waited for me?"

"Yes…"

Slowly, he smiled. "That's nice of you."

"It's just the right thing to do," said Elsa, determinedly not looking at him. "You came all this way out here for my bratty sister."

"Not a problem." He leaned back into his seat. "So, I'll go ahead to our usual place, and you'll meet me there after you've dropped Anna off?"

"Alright."

* * *

If the waitress was surprised to see them again, she gave no indication.

Elsa hid a smirk at Hans' outfit; a wrinkled T-shirt with Darth Vader on it, and hideously baggy sweatpants. "Quiet night in?"

"Hey, I had a dream date with pizza and illegally downloaded movies."

"Sounds like a match made in heaven." She was glad that she had bothered to smarten up a little – not because there was a chance of seeing Hans, of course – from her own night in with blueprints and white wine. "Saw anything good?"

"Quite a few." He listed the names of currently-playing movies.

"It's actually a little disturbing that you've managed to watch so many."

Hans laughed. "Oops, I've gone and given my complete lack of a social life away."

"Don't worry, your secrets are safe with me."

He grinned and stuffed a forkful of pancakes into his mouth; Elsa made a sound of disgust.

"Seriously, don't you find this annoying?"

"Find what annoying?" he mumbled. "The pancakes are delicious."

"Not the pancakes, you dork. I meant dealing with my flake of a sister? Driving out in the middle of the night to find that you wasted your time?"

Hans swallowed. "Um. Not quite…"

"Not quite?"

"Yeah, because I, um. I get to spend time with you."

"... oh."

"Don't _you_ think this is nice?" He gestured at their surroundings with his fork.

Her lips twitched. "What, the coffee? I've had better."

"Very funny."

* * *

"I," said Elsa imperiously, striding into the bedroom and yanking the blanket off a protesting Anna, "am blocking your number and moving."

"Please don't." Anna covered her head with a pillow and so Elsa had to strain her ears to catch the muffled words. "What if I'm having an emergency?"

"I'm sure Kristoff is more than happy to deal with your messes."

"He's not my favourite sister. You are."

"I'm your only sister."

"Therefore you can't cut me off. Now sleep. Head hurts. Talking hurts." She added a long moan for effect.

The blonde raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "None of that would have happened if you didn't spend your nights carousing."

"Not a carousel," mumbled Anna, already half-asleep.

Elsa snorted.

* * *

Anna's phone rang that afternoon and she was surprised to see the caller.

"Hi, Hans?"

"Feeling fine?" came his dry voice. "Not feeling particularly twitchy when it comes to speed-dialing?"

"Oh, shut up."

"That would rather defeat the purpose of a phone call."

"You know, you're sounding more like my sister – you two should hang out sometime."

"… Actually, that's why I'm calling…"

"… what?"

* * *

When Elsa's phone rang on a Friday evening, she spent three minutes glaring daggers at it, torn between answering it and going out on a wild goose chase, or not answering it and…

… not going out on a date.

The caller was an unknown number, driving her paranoia up a notch.

"Hello?"

"Elsa?"

She blinked. "Hans, is that you? How'd you get my number?"

"Anna, as her penance for disrupting my Netflix nights."

She laughed nervously. "You're not getting very much out of this deal. At least I'm getting a cocoa plantation's worth of chocolate."

"Well, actually, I think I'm getting plenty."

Elsa blushed, thankful he couldn't see.

"Say, Elsa…?"

"Yes, Hans?"

"Would you go out with me this Friday? On a proper date? Where we aren't dressed like hoboes and we eat something fancier than greasy diner fare?"

"... yes, I'd like that."

"Good. Yes. Uh, I'd pick you up but I don't know where you stay."

A smile tugged at her lips.

* * *

"Anna."

She glanced at Kristoff over the top of her laptop, where she was hard at work procrastinating. "Yeah?"

"How many of those 'pick-me-up-from-a-party' calls were real?"

Anna grinned. "Oh, just the first two? The rest were accidentally-on-purpose, of course, until those two finally caught on."

He threw a piece of popcorn at her. It bounced off her forehead. "… You devious little schemer."

"I prefer the term matchmaker."


End file.
